


Marine Biology

by ambivertedintrovert, NinaFujisaki



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Hortense and Quackmore are used to it though, The twins are siblings and it shows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29610645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivertedintrovert/pseuds/ambivertedintrovert, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinaFujisaki/pseuds/NinaFujisaki
Summary: Donald offers to help Della study Marine Biology. Chaos ensues.Or, in simple words, what happens when your sibling offers to help you study for the upcoming exam.
Relationships: Della Duck & Donald Duck
Kudos: 24





	Marine Biology

**Author's Note:**

> Collab between @your-local-semi-nerd and @dellyduck on tumblr! ^-^

“Come on, Della, pay attention! You still need to ask _me_ questions after this.”

Della let out a snort, and raised an eyebrow at her brother. “But biology’s so _boring_. Can’t we just jump to geography right now?”

Donald shook his head pensively.

“You can finish geography next week, Dumbella.”

“Don’t call me that.” Della slumped against her chair. She was not in the mood to get even more stressed. Donald cackled at her instead. Della glared at him.

The twins had been studying ever since they finished lunch, because a certain _someone_ had forgotten they had an exam in two days, and another certain someone, as a good brother, had willingly offered to help. 

But it was hard. And _annoying._ Della was never one to be interested in biology, but when the topic was marine biology, with her phobi- erh, disgust of fish, she couldn’t have it on herself to concentrate in the slightest.

“This is stupid. Everything’s stupid.”

“True,” Donald said nonchalantly.

“Then can we _please_ study something else?”

“Not until I’m sure you know enough to get at least a C on it. Mom will kill you if you don’t.”

Della laughed it off. Then she sulked. Staring at her textbook, she wished it would disappear in a poof of smoke.

It didn’t.

Donald sighed, “Come on, just one last topic. It’s sharks now. You like sharks, don’t you?”

“I _tolerate_ sharks; they’re still disgusting _fishes_.” She grimaced, before adding, “Especially with what they do with their pee.”

“That’s not in the textbook,” Donald muttered.

Della shrugged, she wouldn’t know if that was in the book or not, she just knew that, “That was what my teacher said. They keep their pee in their bodies to make them warm.

“See, that’s the thing,” Donald’s face scrunched up in revulsion, “If your teacher didn’t tell you that, you wouldn’t hate the subject. That’s why you should have teachers like ours.”

He added an almost unnoticed, ‘because they keep the subject interesting without traumatising the students,’ at the end. Emphasis on _almost_.

Della frowned, “Just so you know, Miss Thatcher at least makes the subject _funny_. Better than dying out of boredom with your teacher.”

“Miss Burnes is a splendid teacher, thank you.”

“Oh really? _How_?”

“She doesn’t mentally attack kids, for one! Not everything has to be a horror story, Dell,” Donald chuckled sarcastically.

“Oh yeah, because it’s sooo much funnier to listen to ‘In 1800 and something some random fellow found some random icky fish fossils’,” she mocked, with a slow, bored tone. (“Not everything’s about fish, you know,” Donald mumbled, but Della didn’t seem to hear him.) and continued her monologue, “Instead of-!”

Donald jolted and his eyes went wide when his sister suddenly jumped on the table.

“The place: Pacopisco! The time: A day with a giant storm happening-!”

“So _that_ is how your classes go?!” Donald exclaimed. “The noise from the end of the hall suddenly makes so much sense. Now get down from the table, Mom just cleaned it and she’ll be mad if she sees you there.”

“Not until you admit that Miss Thatcher is better than your teacher and that you wish you were in my class.” She crossed her arms stubbornly, her head held high. Donald glared right at her.

“Never!” he shouted, and then with a simultaneous war cry, the two of them lunged at each other. For in that moment, indeed, they were fighting a petty, petty war.

Pulling Donald into a headlock, Della spoke in a fit of rage. “You’re stupid!”

“You’re stupider!” Donald seethed back.

“That’s not even a word!”

“Is too!”

Within an instant, they were pulling each other’s hair, and to an outsider, they may have as well seen a brown and blue blur rolling around the room in circles.

“Momma’s boy!”

“Oh shut it, Mom dotes on you just as much as she does on me,” Donald grumbled, letting out an incoherent squawk when Della punched him in the stomach.

“Okay then, you’re… that table!”

“Then you’re the chair!”

“That’s a terrible insult!”

“Then uhh…YOU’RE A SHARK!” Donald shouted, and on the tiny glimpse he got of Della’s offended expression, he grinned broadly. _Mission successful._

“TAKE THAT BACK!” Della now had a webbed foot on his beak, and the two of them let out another war cry, their tone a little tired but not lacking enthusiasm.

And it was at this moment, from the living room, the last pieces of the argument hit the ears of the twins’ parents. They glanced at each other wearily, the game they were playing not enough of a distraction.

Quackmore raised an eyebrow, confused. “Is that… a new type of insult kids use nowadays?” Most parents would have frowned upon their kids strangling and tossing insults at each other, but this was Hortense and Quackmore. As long as the fights were not serious, the twins would survive.

“You think that’s an insult?” Hortense asked rhetorically. Quackmore just put his head in his hands in response.

But when another scream of short-lived victory was heard from the other room, they decided enough was _enough_.

With a sigh, Hortense stood up from her armchair, resting her cards faced down. It would be impossible for them to continue their game while their kids kept trying to kill each other in the other room.

The redheaded woman approached the door, Quackmore right behind her, and they peeked inside. The couple would recognize that blurred blue and brown ball anywhere. Quackmore’s forehead wrinkled in exhaustion.

Hortense stepped in here, slamming her hand on the table as the noise reverberated in the room. For “Kids!” was all that she had to say, her voice firm and loud.

The two ducklings stopped mid-fight in cold sweat, Della shoving Donald once more before they stepped apart within a blink. They were smiling sheepishly.

“I swear it was Donald’s fault,” Della said at once, and before Donald could retort in his defense, Hortense placed herself in between them.

Quackmore shook his head disapprovingly. The twins glanced at the floor.

“We’re sorry,” their apology was synchronised, a well-practised statement by now.

“Say sorry to eachother?”

“Sorry Donald.”

“Sorry Dum- _Della._ ”

Their parents nodded at them, a sign of ‘apology accepted’, and Hortense’s stern face relaxed. “Good. So, who wants cake?”

A chorus of ‘me!’ followed, (and the chorus included Quackmore too, which left the children giggling and their mother rolling her eyes) and they rushed to the kitchen, the trivial fight forgotten in seconds.

_(Because that was the thing about the twins, you see. They fought, but forgiving was easy. They rarely crossed the line that would cause everything to go haywire._

_But just over a decade later, that would not be the case. Because everything would fall apart, and there would have been nothing, absolutely_ nothing _to predict it._

_Except a few harsh words and a few careless threats.)_

—

And as the family of four sat around the table, laughter echoing through the rooms, they decided it couldn’t have been better.

Because well, for now, it really couldn’t.

(Except maybe that the children could have eaten a _little_ less sugar.)

**Author's Note:**

> Sibling shenanigans ftw


End file.
